𝐒𝐲𝐧 ┃𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

89. 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝐺𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐵𝑦𝑒

Paris

I rested into the couch, my feet resting on the coffee table as I watched a random romantic comedy- bored out of my mind. My day had been uneventful, to say the least, and against my better judgment, I missed the happy couple.

I took a sip of the bitter scalding hot coffee, letting it burn down my throat as I closed my eyes and released a deep breath. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, a picture of my mother flashed across the screen and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I rarely answered her calls these days— I didn't answer any of my family's calls. It was better that way.

But today something in me made me press answer. When her voice filled my ears, I closed my eyes. "Paris," she said with a sniffle. "You answered."

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to hear your voice," she answered. "When are you going to come to see us?"

"What do you want?" I repeated slowly.

She sighed, dropping the act. "Your sister is getting married. You should at least contribute financially to the wedding."

I scoffed. She was always ludicrous but to make it sound like I never helped them... pissed me the fuck off. "I should at least— I pay everyone's rent along with a hefty allowance and I should at least contribute to a wedding I wasn't even invited to?"

"Oh, you're so fickle, Paris," she muttered. I could just imagine her rolling her eyes as she spoke, the narcissism dripping in her voice and I rubbed my head. "We're your family."

"You all abandoned me," I reminded her. "If I hadn't come back for you guys you still would've been in that run down one bedroom in Tulsa. You'd do well to remember that it's my money that spoils you now."

The line went silent and I reined it in. I couldn't let my emotions get the better of me when I was dealing with my family. They practically thrived on it- their toxicity was draining, to say the least. It almost made me wish I never went back for them.

I wasn't like Syn or Cain or any other Underworlder that was born into this world. I was a poor kid from Oklahoma that grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. All I wanted to do was help my family.

After my father died and landed us into some debt with some dangerous people, my mother offered my life in exchange for her and my sister's freedom. I would've given myself up had I known it would save them but her doing it without so much as a second thought cut deep.

I was stuck in that Hell for years, having to sell drugs, endure abuse for my father's mistakes and eat scraps just to stay alive. After a few years, I had lost hope for any sort of different life for myself. I gathered up all the money I had stolen and saved over the past years and left it at my mother's doorstep one morning.

And that night, I took my life in an abandoned trailer in the woods.

I could see the faint jagged scars on my wrist from the piece of glass I used, serving as a reminder of my old life.

Someone that night decided that I was worth saving. And gave me a second chance, thrusting me into an entire world of possibilities I had never known about. My mind went back to that moment and my chest warmed in loyalty at the man I found myself indebted to forever.

I felt cold. My head ached as I opened my eyes. My blood felt like it was on fire and my tongue was dry. My hand moved to my throat and my eyes widened as I felt something wet. I looked down, immediately sitting up and seeing my blood-soaked fingers.

"Woah, calm down kiddo." A man dressed in black a few feet away from me said as he dragged from a cigarette, a bloody hand wrapped around his gun. He crouched beside me, kneeling as he studied me. I followed his eyes to my wrists and a coldness rushed down my body. I cut them. I felt myself slip into the sweet arms of death...but I was here still. The wounds were closed and replaced with healed scars, the blood being the only remnants of what I did.